


found you shaking like a leaf (underneath your family tree)

by ReluctantlyGlutenFree



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Claustrophobia, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Family Dynamics, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Manipulation, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stockholm Syndrome, This got really out of hand, Tommy is a little messed up, TommyInnit Misses Toby Smith | Tubbo, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), it's mostly canon but strays a little bit, just a little, starts off as kinda a Tommy character study through his exile, then just becomes him and techno being roommates, they adopt an arctic fox, ugh guys I made another sad thing, why can't they all just be happy in canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReluctantlyGlutenFree/pseuds/ReluctantlyGlutenFree
Summary: In an unprecedented turn of events, it ends up being Tommy who breaks the cycle.In which an unstable Tommy ditches his exile and ends up living in his anarchist brother's retirement cottage searching for control, freedom, and home. Trouble follows him as always.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), SBI - Relationship, TommyInnit & Clay | Dream, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Tommyinnit & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 44
Kudos: 772





	1. spoiled, selfish little child

**Author's Note:**

> (12/24/20, So since I've posted this, I've edited it quite a bit and will probably continue to do so until it's been completed. At first this started very much as a character study but has really molded into being more story driven [so if you're here for that, please stick around it's going to become a lot more prominent as the story progresses!]. Anyways, I just want everything to flow a bit better so I'll probably be adding and moved bits around and such. Thanks for understanding!)
> 
> Woah, boy. This got a little out of hand. I don't think I nailed this one to be real with y'all but I hope it's ok? I've never really written for Techno before and it doesn't quite feel right. Also, while both stories are completely independent, this has some tie-ins to my other piece 'when you break (it's too late for you to fall apart)' as well as a very similar format and writing style. 
> 
> I'm really sorry if this style is confusing. For the most, part anything in parenthesis is a past event, thought, or important note. If you see any errors please feel free to point them out. Criticism and advice is always welcome!
> 
> Here's the obligatory disclaimer, this is written strictly about the fictional characters depicted on the Dream SMP and not at all intended to reflect the real people.
> 
> Warnings for suicidal ideals, PTSD, claustrophobia, grammatical errors, and poor writing skills. I sincerely apologize if these elements aren't represented in an accurate way. It is the furthest thing from my intentions to romanticize any of these themes.

The sky has always called to Tommy.

The sky has always called to him and _he has always listened._

(Tommy follows his heart. He does what he wants, says what he thinks, and fights for what he believes in.

  
  


_Tommy follows his heart._

  
  


So when it leads him to the front door of George's new holiday home,

  
  


_what else is he to do?)_

  
  


Tommy has never really been afraid of heights. In fact, he rather enjoys them.

He builds towers, each one getting taller and ascending further into the clouds.

(Tommy lives on the edge. He puts everything on the line for seemly nothing at all. Doesn't think, doesn't learn.

_No, Tommy never learns_. 

Tommy lives on the edge.

So it's inevitable that one day he'll fall.)

They call his towers things like "ugly" and "abysmal detriments and disservices to the commonwealth of society" but he isn't deterred. They don't quite understand, after all.

It's never been about how pretty they look or the location in which they stand (though that much is obvious).

They don't understand, Tommy decides.

(They don't understand why he can't just behave himself. To an extent, Tommy doesn't really either.

No one understands why Tommy can't behave, or stand still, or be silent.

_But they don't see the walls_.

They don't feel them always narrowly closing in, threatening to lock him inside and pry away his freedom.

Tubbo always understood. Yet, as Tommy beats against the walls and iron bars, Tubbo's exhausted gaze from the judges seat wavers, lacking comprehension.)

As he stands at the top of his towers and a chill wind faintly bites at his skin, carding through his hair and catching against his clothes, Tommy looks at the ground and _laughs._

_He's in control. He's free. He's home._

(Tommy just wishes he could feel _even one_ of these things as Tubbo turns to him. 

" _Tommy_ , I'm so, so sorry." Tubbo almost laughs. It isn't like the rambunctious, mellow fits of laughter Tommy is used to. Rather, it is laced with grim realization and disbelief.

They stand on the obsidian wall that has been born of Tommy's resentment for regulation. That's what L'manburg has always been to Tommy, after all. _Freedom_.

Tubbo looks at him with something Tommy doesn't recognize and _it's like the floor gives away beneath his feet_.)

The sky calls to him and sings a gentle melody in his ears, so different from his own frequently hollering, and _he listens_.

(But for a moment, the sky doesn't call to him.

  
  


_He listens._

  
  


Tommy listens as his best friend, the one person he thought he'd always have, the _one person_ he thought was _his_ , _finally gives up on him_.

  
  


Tommy can do nothing but listen as he is exiled from the land he's fought for by the one _who_ he's fought for.

  
  


He listens—it's all he can do.

  
  
 _And the sky doesn't call to him_ )

Tommy chases after every gust of wind, every sweet nothing the sky whispers to him. He follows the call and builds towers, high and proud, just to stand atop them and leave his mark. It's all below him now; _the ground, the wars, his thoughts_.

Even the clouds are on their knees beneath him.

So he laughs, mocking a world that tries to cage him and force him to conform.

_He's in control now._

The wind blows against Tommy, his heart beats out of his chest and vibrates in his ears, the breeze cards through his hair, and he laughs.

_He feels so alive._

(Despite the lava simmering hundreds of feet below him, it's warmth radiates against his feet that recklessly dangle off the edge. He feels the warmth bite against his skin and fringe the ends of his hair.

_It sings to him too_.

Its song is lower, more ominous than the sweet sound of the sky.

It puts thoughts in his head that don't belong there and gives him impulses that make his stomach churn.

He knows it's probably best not to listen.

But not a lot of people talk to him these days.

Tommy's so cold, but also far too warm. With every laboured, uneven breath he takes, smoke slips into his lungs and makes his chest tighten painfully.

He feels so alive.

_Far too alive_.

A hand grips his shoulder and less than gently pulls him back from the ledge.)

Time begins to blur during his exile, but that's ok, Tommy doesn't have much use for it anymore. _He's going to be here forever_.

He tried to be optimistic for a whole, like, two days, but it was becoming increasingly more obvious Dream would never let him leave and Tubbo would never take him back.

(Ghostbur keeps him company on the island for a while. It's fitting really, that it should be the two of them again, together against the world in exile.

He doubts Ghostbur remembers much about their first exile, what with the whole ' _selective amnesia'_ thing. But Tommy remembers.

_He remembers everything_.

Specifically, he remembers thinking how things could not possibly get any worse. _They'd lost L'manburg, everyone turned against them, he was separated from Tubbo_ —

He decides that this time is much, _much_ worse.

The difference this time is that Wilbur is able to leave whenever he wants and also very dead.

_Unfortunately_ , Tommy is neither of those things.

He finds it ironic [and not to mention slightly annoying] that Ghostbur, a dead man, a _literal ghost_ , seems more alive than he is.

Ghostbur helps him gather resources and makes everything look pretty. He is considerably less crotchety than last time so he supposes that is an improvement.

The roles seem to be reversed this exile because Wilbur is the one always trying to cheer _him_ up.

"— _and I thought, what does Tommy really, really like_?" Wilbur says one day as he hands him a small item, carefully wrapped in silky cloth. 

Tommy ignores Wilbur's jovial and anticipant rambles and slowly unravels the cloth from around the gift to reveal a compass.

' _Your Tubbo_ ' is engraved into the metal and Tommy's face screws up.

"Tommy, I know you really, really like Tubbo, and I know you really, really miss him. So, I went out of my way and made you this."

Wilbur is still talking but Tommy can't listen.

He just stares at the object in his hands.

" _It points you to Tubbo at all times_!"

He puts it away immediately. Perhaps because it hurts too much to look at.

Or maybe because he knows _it's no use to him,_ he isn't able to follow it anyways.

Or maybe, just _maybe_ , because he knows deep down that it's the most valuable thing to ever pass into his hands.

"...thank you." He mumbles distantly, knowing this was probably not the reaction the poor ghost was looking for.

Nevertheless, Ghostbur looks satisfied and shoots him a bright smile.

He stops visiting him eventually.)

(A couple of his friends _do_ come to see him a time or two. Some of them come out of pity, and others come just to mock him.

Even if they _did_ have only good intentions,

Tommy wishes they had had them sooner.

In the end, Tommy spends all his time alone wishing for company.

When company comes, he spends all his time with them wishing they'd leave.

_He wonders why their presence makes him feel even more alone._ )

If Tommy thought he couldn't possibly lose anything else, then he curses himself as Logstedshire is promptly blown to bits.

(He's lost L'manburg, he's lost his discs, he's lost his brothers, he's lost _Tubbo._

No one except Dream really comes to visit him more than once.

No one except Dream comes to see him out of anything but pity and curiosity.

No one comes to his beach party.

No one _cares_ about him.

No one is _here._

Except Dream of course.

_And for now,_ he figures, _that'll have to be enough._ )

Small shards of plaster and stone violently burst in every direction and sections of burning cloth from his tent slowly sink through the air onto the singed grass. The fire rages, slowly devouring the hundreds of logs placed around his camp.

Tommy kneels in front of the broken splinters of obsidian that lay scattered across the ground. It'll be a long time until he sees his precious prized belongings again.

_There is nowhere he is welcome_.

(That isn't something he didn't already know but it's only now starting to set in.)

Dream ignores Tommy's desperate pleas to ' _please just not leave him alone here_ ' as if he hadn't heard them. Tommy apologizes and begs on his knees before the man he's _sworn_ to be his enemy.

(Tommy doesn't beg. Or, at least, he hasn't ever before.)

_And Dream leaves him alone in the rumble_.

He has no one.

Not his _friends_ , not his _family_ , not _Tubbo_.

And he has _never_ had _Dream_.

(Tommy isn't proud of it, but he warms up to Dream. He lets him walk by his side while he mines and chats with him about everything under the sun.

His armor is a small price to pay for the company.

He doesn't quite know what's happening, _no, not yet_. But he does notice some things.

He notices how Dream never pities him like everyone else.

He notices how, while most of his friends only visit him once in a blue moon, Dream visits him constantly.

He notices how Dream starts to call him _a friend._

He notices all these things and, despite _everything he knows about Dream_ , doesn't heed them.

He takes Dream's lack of pity for respect, not apathy.

He figures Dream frequent presence is because he cares, not because he is always watching.

He _believes Dream_ when he calls Tommy his friend, not thinking of how he never did before.

_Tommy never learns._

Dream has already taken two of his lives after all,

why would he not go for the third too?)

Tommy isn't welcome here. No one cares about him or cares if he is alive or even _wants_ him alive—

But the sky calls to him. _He's welcome in the sky._

With all the scorched wreckage he can gather from Logstedshire's destruction, he builds the most flimsy and unstable tower he's ever built. _It might just be the tallest yet._

His heart beats wildly as he shakingly stands, the tower shuddering beneath his weight.

It's all below him now; _the clouds, the wars, his thoughts_ ,

... _the ground._

He stares at the ground and can't look away or muster a laugh.

He stares at the ground and for the first time he's terrified.

Tommy doesn't feel _in control_ or _free_ or _at home—_

He wonders when the ground started calling to him too.

It's song isn't sweet and triumphant like the sky or low and ominous like the lava. 

No, the ground's song starts off soft and slow. Barely a whisper but still managing to drown everything else out.

It's _peaceful_ and _alluring_.

It's _welcoming._

Slowly, the ground's soft, quiet hum grows louder and faster, putting thoughts in his head that don't belong there and impulses that make his stomach churn.

There's no voice to talk him down or hand to grab his shoulder.

The ground calls to him, demanding he jumps into its waiting, _welcoming_ arms. 

_No one_ has come to see him, no one _cares_ about him, and no one one _wants him_ (he's starting to wonder if anyone ever has).

The song is blaring so loudly. The wind whips at his tattered cloths and through his hair.

The drums beats harder and more fervently, getting _faster and faster—_

Then it stops. Leaving only the faintest note behind to fade into nothingness.

Tommy isn't _cared for_ , or _loved_ , or _wanted_.

_But since when has he ever done anything people wanted?_

Tommy shakingly climbs down his tower with no intention to give the world, or _ground_ , or _Dream_ what they want.

He leaves behind nothing but a pillar that sways with the breeze and ascends into the high heavens.

He leaves and this time, i _t's on his own terms._

Tommy leaves and _he feels alive_.

("— _To revoke the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit!"_

All eyes land of Tommy, crushing them beneath their weight. Hundreds of emotions flood through him, and he can't move, _he's stuck, he's trapped, he's hyperventilating—_

"Tommy, _Tommy_ , _run_!"

His senses slam back into him and there are hands reaching out to grab him, and arrows firing at him, and voices screaming not only in his ears but in his head—

Wilbur and Tommy leave L'manburg, they run from it as fast as they can.

_It isn't on his own terms._

They leave and he wishes he didn't feel so alive.)

His breath freezes in the air in front of him as he trudges through the icy tundra. Tommy rubs at his arms and pulls what's left of his tattered shirt snuggly around him. The snow gracefully falling from the heavens coats the grass for miles all around.

Tommy dares to glance at his numb, frozen, shoeless foot, oh you know, _just to make sure it's still there_ , and mumbles curses under his breath.

He is freezing.

But despite the frost, he decides it was _much_ colder on the island.

Finally, he sees warm lights in the distance, glowing in the dark night across the horizon.

( _It wasn't looking good._

On second thought, that was far too generous.

Things were actually going quite miserably.

Time had blurred as they ran through the forest, but that was ok.

He didn't really want to remember this evening anyways.

[ _But, oh, how he would.]_

Frantically, Tommy grabs a quill and scrawls out on the back of a crumpled ballet he'd found in his trousers.

An invitation, an opportunity, a _plea_.)

He's immediately met with warmth upon bursting into Technoblade's home uninvited. It wasn't safe or wise but he was desperate to get out of the cold.

In an unprecedented turn of events, the universe decides to give him a break.

_Techno wasn't here._

Tommy wasn't quite sure what he was going to do if he had been, he hadn't thought that far yet.

He slams the door shut, locking the snow and frost outside, and immediately goes to warm himself by the fire.

It isn't quite what he'd pictured Techno's home to look like. In all honesty he'd expected a lot more blackstone, and lava, and death-traps, but he _certainly_ isn't complaining.

He holds out his hands, probably a little too close, lets his eyelids fall, and leans back right onto a chest.

_Funnily enough_ , there were actually _many_ chests (even an enderchest where _he could get his discs and compass_ ).

_It couldn't hurt, right?_

Tommy _is_ already wanted. His very presence is outlawed essentially everywhere. He has absolutely nothing to lose.

Plus, this was the man that murdered his best friend.

( _He had once been his brother too._ )

A wicked grin spreads wide across Tommy's face as he throws the chest open and sifts recklessly through the contents.

_Things were finally looking up._

(" _Did somebody say rebellion_?"

Technoblade is a myth, even to his family. He disappears seemingly out of thin air, never letting anyone get too close.

But Technoblade always comes through when you need him most, Tommy thinks as the man stands in all of his glory before him.

Techno reappears when he is needed the most and _Tommy looks to him like he’s hung the moon_.)

After warming up and welcoming himself to all of his brother's belongings, Tommy decides to take a look around the little cottage.

The upstairs is a little too cramped for Tommy's liking but he can see how it could be considered very cozy. There's a bookshelf accompanied by an enchanting table and an unmade bed. 

He begins to climb down the ladder to what he assumes is the basement and is met by a _bone-chilling_ moan. A shiver runs up his spine and he freezes, grip tightening on the rungs of the ladder.

_What the…?_

Eventually, when he regains control of his body again, he slowly lowers himself down the ladder. The groans grow louder and more frequent as he descends further down.

His bare foot meets the cold stone first and Tommy hesitantly turns around.

He's always known Technoblade was a creep, a sociopath in his humble ( _correct_ ) opinion, but this was reaching _whole new levels of disturbing_.

Multiple undead villagers bellow and groan from where they've been imprisoned in his brother's basement, lethargically slumping against the iron bars that contain them.

Tommy's heart-rate spikes as he slowly creeps across the room to the chests he's spotted, ignoring how their bloodshot eyes lock onto him. After what feels like miles, Tommy makes it to the chest, and upon one glance at the items inside decides it was worth it. Tommy's joy upon finally hitting a stroke of good luck does come with a pang of annoyance however.

_Why on earth has he been doing "honest" work his whole life when he could've just been stealing from other people who do the hard work for him?_

A moan omits from the cell besides where Tommy riffles through the chests, distracting him from his newly acquired fortune. Tommy shoots the zombie villager a glare.

"Stop looking at me you absolute-"

Tommy shrieks as a sickly hand brushes against his arm, jumping away from the beast reaching through the bars of a cell he'd neglected to notice in his indignation and reaching for the sword he'd pilfered from upstairs. Without thinking, he wildly slashes at the creature, sending it flying back at the contact, crashing into the wall of its small cell. Its body bursts into flames and erupts into a puff of smoke. He stares in shock for a moment before putting the sword back at his hip and brushing off his hands.

"You best watch out or you'll be next." He informs the undead villager beside him with a smug smile.

He turns his attention back to the chest. There's more wealth than he's ever see in this cabin, far more than he can carry on him. The gears in his head turn.

_What if_ …?

_There's no way…_

_Unless…_

Tommy scours the unfinished basement floor. It's stone. Most of it's a bit loose.

_Maybe if he…_

Reaching into the chest, Tommy grabs a gleaming enchanted pickaxe and drives it straight into the ground. A strip of stone almost instantly crumbles as the pickaxe strikes it.

Tommy glances down the pit he's created and feels _so alive._

(He hears commotion outside one day. The sounds of _metal, and yelling, and chaos, and war._

He almost thinks some of the screams sound like his friends.

Tommy hasn't seen his friends in a while. At least, it feels like it's been a long time. He doubts he even remembers what the sound like.

The urge to peek out of his hole is a strong one, but instead he pulls the blanket over his head and tries to fall asleep.

_He's used to hearing things by now._ )

Admittedly, it's not his finest work but it'll do the trick.

Tommy successfully carves a room beneath the basement of the cottage. He rolls out a bed, creates some chest to hold the loot he's stolen, and even makes a place for the one precious log he'd managed to save from Logstedshire. It's a little cramped, and he's less than thrilled to be living underground again, but it's on _his own terms_.

_He's in control._

He feels more at home than he has in a long time.

(New L'manburg doesn't quite feel like home.

He never, _ever_ , intends to tell Tubbo that, because he knows how much of himself Tubbo has poured into rebuilding it.

It isn’t Tubbo’s fault. _It could never be Tubbo’s fault._

In all honesty, Tommy didn’t know who to blame.

He so badly wants to remember Wilbur the way he was before his eyes grew crazed, and his movements became sharp, and he _reeked of gunpowder._

He so badly doesn’t want to blame Wilbur.

So, he decides to blame Technoblade for taking his home away instead.)

(L'manburg is Tommy's for only a minute or two, but it's more than enough to know that _Wilbur was right_.

It's a possibility that has haunted him ever since Wilbur breathed it into his ear. It was barely audible, hardly above a whisper but managed to echo all through the dark ravine and bury itself straight into his heart like a knife.

But as Tommy stands on the podium, looking out at all the faces he knows every detail of and taking in the L'manburg he has fought so valiantly for—he realizes _Wilbur was right_ , and _that's ok._

He doesn't really think or dwell on it for more than a moment.

Tommy never really does too much thinking.

_No_ , instead _he feels._

He feels the full weight of a country and its citizens' well-being, he feels the expectations of the entire world fall to his shoulders, and he feels the loss of everything he has ever sacrificed for this place.

...And Tommy isn't sure if he has anything else to give it.

Tommy may never learn but that doesn't mean he isn't a lot smarter than people give him credit for.

And Tommy knows that he'll never be able to be confined or contained, at least not willingly.

It really only takes him a second to realize that he _shouldn't_ be president. _Shouldn't. Can't. Won't._

_The sky calls to him, after all._

[However, what Tommy _doesn't_ realize yet is that L'manburg has never been his home. It’s never loved him back like he loves it.

Deep down Tommy believes that, maybe, if he is brave enough, if he sacrifices enough, if he is enough, L’manburg will take him as her own.

_L’manburg takes his life, his discs, his innocence, and his best friend._

_He isn’t welcome._

_And it’s never truly been his home_.])

Tommy gets somewhat of a grasp on Technoblade's schedule (if you could even call it that) during the first week he's there.

He's overjoyed to discover that the man is rarely around so most of the time he has the place completely to himself. As much as he is proud of the nook he's built, he can't deny it's much warmer resting by the fireplace.

However, with Techno's frequent absence, comes his sporadic and unpredictable arrivals.

(He's only been here for a few days but Tommy thinks he's finally pinned down the man's schedule.

So, as he lounges about listening to one of his music discs one evening, he's rather alarmed to hear footprints in the snow. Tommy very abruptly yanks the disc from the jukebox and flies down the ladder, quietly pulling the stone covering over his nook as he hears the door open.

He's been considerably more careful since then.)

Tommy learns a lot about his brother while squatting in his basement.

The first being that _he doesn't sleep_ and when he does it's only for minutes at a time.

Second being that the piglin-hybrid was _far_ _less_ exciting and menacing than he thought he was. Tommy wasn't sure what he was expecting from Techno but it definitely involved more violence and evil monologues and less mindless mumbling and self-depreciation.

("Who put wheat in here? _Ugh_ , classic Phil…" Tommy hears Techno mumble one day. He is barely able to suppress a cackle.)

Philza's around a lot more than Tommy would've guessed. He supposes it makes since really, as he did frequently dismiss himself for long periods of time back in L'manburg.

(He tries to ignore how his heart swells when he hears his father's laughter upstairs.)

The one constant semblance of structure in his brother's life, _that Tommy can tell at least,_ is the regular evenings he spends with Philza.

They relax, and cook, and _laugh._

(He tries to ignore how his heart longs to join them. But, Tommy's never been good at ignoring his heart. In fact, all he's ever known is to follow it.)

(It's ironic really, that Techno remains the closest to their father.

He remembers how upset he'd been when Techno announced he'd be leaving home to travel new lands and compete against challengers on his capability.

He had seen the fire in his brother's eyes as he spoke of the world in which he planned to go. _A world he intended to conquer._

He remembers how Wilbur insisted he didn't care, growing distance and irritable, yet, still insisting it was a horrible idea. Their relationship was never quite the same [a _t least, not until years later when the two bond over terrorism and TNT_ ].

He remembers sad acceptance in Philza's eyes. The man had known it was only a matter of time. Techno was still young, _too young_ to be out on his own, but he was skilled, perhaps the most skilled fighter _he had ever seen_.

Philza had known this was inevitable, he's seen the longing in his son's eyes, the wild look he gets when he fights, and knows he'd be doing a disservice to hold him back [ _he doubts he even could_ ].

Phil had no doubt in his mind that wherever Techno went, _he'd conque_ r.

It's ironic. Techno may have been the first to leave, _but he's the first to come back home too._ )

Tommy misses the sky on the days Techno is home.

He can still hear its song but it's _muffled_ and _too quiet._

It's hardly been a week but Tommy starts to feel trapped. His lungs get a little tighter and he doesn't feel in control anymore.

_That just won't do_.

So he digs a tunnel out of his secret room. It surfaces with the house still in distance but far enough to remain inconspicuous.

Tommy starts spending _less and less_ time in the basement.

* * *

He's hardly been there a week when he gets discovered.

The bloodshot stare of undead villagers follow Tommy's every move as he makes his way across the basement.

"Oh, _shut up_." He grumbles, their wallows still startling him more than he cares to admit.

He thinks it's morning, or at least, that's what he'd naturally assumed as he'd just woken up.

Climbing the ladder and emerging onto the main floor of his house (Tommy isn't sure when, but at some point he just decided to claim the place since he's here far more than Techno anyways), he makes a beeline for the chests, grabbing a handful of potatoes and throwing them into the furnace.

Tommy glances out the window and realizes it's dark out.

_He feels like that should mean something but he isn't sure what._

The furnace fills the room with a dim light. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

He misses people.

He is _much_ happier here than he was on that horrible island but he still feels so alone.

He craves _attention, and touch, and company-_

He misses Tubbo a lot; even though he never came to visit him. Tommy wishes he could be angry at Tubbo. He doesn't really know why he can't be, he has no problem being angry at literally anybody else.

Even after _everything,_ Tommy will still defend Tubbo no matter what. _Ev_ _en in his own head_.

No matter how he is treated or wronged by those he loves the most, he will always stick by them. _And that has been, and will continue to be, his fatal weakness_.

(Tommy stands by Wilbur's side faithfully and watches his rise to glory and slow, unnerving descent into madness.

He doesn't quite know what's happening, _no, not yet_. But he does notice some things.

He notices its best to leave Wilbur alone when his eyes grow restless and movements get jagged.

He notices it's best to not take Wilbur's words to heart. He's in a delicate state and doesn't mean them.

He notices that _his_ grip is loosening on Wilbur, and that _Wilbur's_ grip is loosening on his own mind.

Tommy stands by Technoblade's side and looks at him like he's hung the moon.

He notices Techno's indifference to most things.

He notices the man works obsessively and always has something up his sleeves.

He notices Technoblade has no loyalties. Not to their rebellion, and _definitely not to him_.

Tommy stands by Tubbo throughout everything they've ever faced. He stands loyal and unflinching by his side with Tubbo at his own.

He notices that revenge is not what Tubbo turns to when he is hurt. He much prefers company.

He notices Tubbo internalizes his feelings, barring them deep below the surface until he inevitably breaks beneath their weight.

He notices that Tubbo takes responsibility naturally and in stride, putting it above all else.

He notices all this things, but doesn't heed them.

He gets too close to Wilbur when he's in his moods and has the bruises to show it. He thinks too much about the words he says and lets them prod and keep him awake into the dead of night. He doesn't realize Wilburs gone until it's _too late_ to reach out and grab him.

Tommy shares his passions and dreams with Techno and assumes he cares. He lets himself forget Technoblade doesn't lose and will always come out on top. He lets himself believe that his brother will fight beside him and help him take back their country. He lets himself believe that ' _The Blade'_ is something that can be _had_ or _won_ to a certain side and not on he is on a side of his own.

Tommy notices Tubbo doesn't care for revenge but _just can't_ stifle the anger he feels on behalf of his friend. It's always an accident, but he usually ends up leaving Tubbo alone when he needs him most, chasing after justice when all the other boy has ever wanted was for him to _be there_.

Tommy notices Tubbo isn't as vocal about his feelings as he is. He's lucky Tubbo is always honest with him or else he'd spend a lot of time trying to get to the bottom of the boy's actual thoughts. Tubbo doesn't stop, never properly lets himself grieve or cry or _break_. Tommy assumes, by the blank look in Tubbo's eyes when he yells and sends him away, that he's changed, not that he's just pushed his feelings down deep below, bidding them to inevitably resurface down the road.

He notices Tubbo puts his country first, above his own belongings, above his own priorities, above his own _life_. Tommy notices this and still believes that to Tubbo, _he comes first_.

Tommy notices these things and doesn't learn.

_No_ , Tommy never learns.)

Tommy's only been here a week.

Tommy's _only been here a week and he's already lonely_.

He doesn't hear the footprints in the snow outside or the creak of the door as it opens until he is face to face with his sworn enemy-

Otherwise known as his brother.

Tommy's been here a week and he's already been discovered.

"You could at least knock first," Tommy offers, impulsively attempting to diffuse the situation. "Y'know", he turns to remove his potatoes from the oven, "you've got _some nerve to just_ -"

" _Why are you in my house_?" The words are spoken far to calmly to not be preceding an outburst. Techno doesn't move a single inch and watches him with deadly precision.

If completely out of habit, a single, uneasy laugh subconsciously erupts from Tommy's throat.

"Well," Tommy clears his throat, "this is a bit awkward." He spouts.

Techno stares at him with a completely unreadable expression. _Intense_ , but unreadable nonetheless.

For an eternity the two just stand there, unmoving and staring at each other.

Tommy glaces at the window from the corner of his vision and then back to Techno.

It happens in a split second.

He plunges out of the window, throwing himself against the panes of glass and wooden shutters, shattering them.

His blood is pumping and his bones rattle as he slides down the roof and lands in the snow bank outside the cottage. He makes a mad dash for the hills but evidently isn't quick enough as he is grabbed by the collar of his tattered shirt and slammed against wall of the home.

_Admittedly_ , Tommy knows Techno could've slammed him much harder if he wanted too, but he still find the gesture rude.

"I'm going to ask you again, Tommy. _Why are you here_?" Techno practically growls.

Tommy gulps.

"Alright, alright." Tommy moves to push the man off him to no avail. " _Let go of me first yo_ -"

"No, no. You _clearly_ do _not_ have the advantageous positioning here. Explain first and then I'll _consider_ lettin' you go."

"That's not fair at all! _I_ -" Tommy continues to struggle before letting out a frustrated groan.

" _Ugh_ , fine! I was minding my own business in Logstedshire, it got blown up, I figured, ' _why on earth should I stay here'_ and left."

Technoblade's grip eases a bit but doesn't relinquish.

"You're tellin' me, when you literally could've gone anywhere else in the world, you show up _here_?" Techno flatly questions, lacking any real hostility but abundant in disbelief.

"Believe me, you were _certainly not_ my first choice." Tommy spits. Technoblade rolls his eyes.

Tommy goes to say something else, an insult, or explanation, or apology, but ultimately falters, leaning his forehead against the wall.

"Techno...I've got nowhere else to go." He somberly whispers, voice low.

Studying him intently, Technoblade releases the boy from his grip, allowing him to go free. He watches him with caution and scrutiny however, prepared to grab him all over again at the first sign of threat.

Tommy rolls out his neck and rubs at his collar bone

"So," Techno sighs. "How long've you been here for?" He drags his hand down the side of his face and submits to the inconvenience of this whole situation.

"Oh, about a week or so." Tommy says casually, walking back up the stair and into the house.

" _You've been here for a week_?!"

Tommy's only been here for a week when he's discovered, but he already feels more free.

* * *

" _You've been living underneath my house?!_ "

Techno stares in complete and utter disbelief in his basement. The various mobs he's collected make a racket but he can't be torn away from the floor.

Specifically, the hole in his basement floor _that he didn't put there_.

"I can't believe this!" He yells.

Tommy's expression falls somewhere between self-congratulatory and terrified.

"Well, you should with your _terrible_ observational skills." Tommy calls as he disappears further into the hole.

"Follow me, I'll give you the official house tour!"

Techno grumbles but follows him into the hole.

"Number one, this is _my_ house, and number two-" 

He stops when he makes it to the bottom of the ladder, observing Tommy rummaging through one of his chests.

"Are those _my things_? _Have you been_ _stealin' from me?_ What _is_ this!" Techno shouts.

"I don't know what you're on about." Tommy dismisses flippantly.

"This is literally the definition of a parasitic relationship!" Techno yells in incredulity.

"You and your big fancy words. I bet you don't even know what they mean. _'Oh, I'm Technoblade, I'm so smart! I know big word!_ '"

" _Bruh_. Here I am, _graciously_ waiting for my tour, and getting insulted by the tour guide. This is ridiculous."

"You...you actually want the tour?" Tommy questions sceptically.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Tommy's face eagerly lights up.

(The entire cliffside shifts. The ground beneath his feet rumbles and Tommy frantically glances at his brother—

_His brother is smiling._

A section of the mountain begins to collapse and Technoblade fearless parades forward through the dust that's emerged from whatever it is that's happening to the mountain.

Tommy can't make himself follow, instead squeezing his eyes shut and coughing into the crook of his elbow.

When Tommy finally dares to open his eyes, the dust has settled, leaving his brother standing there with his arms held out wide.

A newly unveiled fortress stands behind him.

[And what do you know, there's all the blackstone.]

Tommy gapes and sputters for a moment and the satisfaction in his brother's expression only grows as he looks him right in the eyes.

" _Welcome home, Theseus_."

Techno turns, his robes whipping behind him, and heads further into the mountain side.

"It's _my_ turn to give you a tour.")

Him and Technoblade come to an agreement. They aren't _buddies_ or _pals_ , and Tommy has no intention of destroying L'manburg's government, but he agrees to help Techno in return for the man's help in retrieving his discs and giving him a place to stay.

_They aren't buddies or pals, but they are brothers._

(He tries not to listen.

He tries so hard not to dwell on his Techno's words.

" _Does he think of you the same way, Tommy?_ " Techno says to him.

He tries not to listen, _oh, how he tries_ , but it's hard when his worst fears and suspicions are being ripped straight from the darkest corners of his mind—where he locks them away and denies them —and suddenly revealed audibly for the whole world to hear.

“ _You wanna be friends with Tubbo? You wanna know what’s driven you apart? Why you don’t have your discs? Because of the government! If there was no government you and Tubbo could be friends_.”

He _hates_ how much sense Techno makes.

His brothers have always had a knack for knowing the exact words that haunt him at night.)

Though begrudgingly, Techno allows him stay in the basement for the time being under the pretenses that he:

1.) works for his keep,

2.) returns all he has stolen,

3.) doesn't take anything else without permission,

4.) does as he is told,

and 5.)—

"— _And please, Tommy, don't make me regret doin' this_."

(" _You think you're a hero, Tommy?"_

His brother stands menacingly across the crater; the fresh, gaping cavity gruesomely scarred the face of the land Tommy has loved so dearly.

Tommy has died twice to create this nation with Wilbur, and now, Wilbur has died to destroy it.

Tommy's already lost one brother today, and his heart pangs with sorrow and anguish because he knows he's destined to lose both.

The _wretched_ crater separates him from his last brother. The _horrid_ cavity carved by violence, and vengeance, and glory pushes them apart once more.

Techno stands, tall and proud, pulling yet another card from up his sleeve and revealing what his hand has been the entire game to world.

This was the man who'd forged his legacy in blood.

This was the man who was spoken of with such reverence that many believed him only to be a myth.

This was the man who'd saved their rebellion, reappearing when he was needed the most.

This was the man who Tommy looked to as if he'd hung the moon.

" _Then die like one!")_

" _Where did_ —Tommy give me the netherite back."

"No." Tommy says immediately, moving the dark ingot closer to his eye to inspect it.

Techno clenches his jaw and rubs his temples.

"Tommy, I am _literally_ making this armor _for you._ "

"I just don't see why I can't do it myself." The boy huffs.

Techno steps back from the smithing table and gestures to it.

"Be my guest."

Tommy proudly steps up to the table.

"That's right! Step aside Blade and let the _men_ do the work! I'll show you how it's done. You see, Technoblade, this is why—"

The words just keep flowing from his mouth like lava. Techno hadn't realized just how much he'd been enjoying his new life of peace and quiet until this moment.

Tommy spiel has evidently ended by the time Techno tunes back in to reality and now, the boy just stands there looking puzzled.

" _Uh_ , Techno?"

"Yes, Tommy?"

"I haven't got the slightest clue what I'm doing."

They make Tommy's armor together.

("Be on your best behavior." Techno sighs, trudging through the humid, burning dimension. Tommy scoffs, trailing behind him.

"I'm _always_ on my best behavior."

"That...is the _saddest_ thing I've ever heard."

They walk on for a while, taking in the blistering, infernal landscape. Though he'd never admit it, Techno has always found the nether beautiful in its own, dreadful way.

That's probably just the piglin in him though.

Tommy’s new armor lightly jostles as he quickens his pace to walk alongside him.

“I’m actually banned from the Nether, you know.” Techno is informed by the boy.

“For good reason, I’d imagine.” He retorts back, not slowing down.

But Tommy matches his pace, persisting like a tick on a dog, driving his little, beaty teeth into his skin and _refusing to let him go—_

“Technoblade, you’re a real piece of work, you know that? Real ugly too.”

Techno speeds up slightly and Tommy lets out a single, rambunctious, ear-piercing laugh.

“It’s no wonder you are so incredibly single. If I was a woman, I _definitely_ wouldn’t date you.”

" _That's_ a relief." Techno mutters under his breath.

"What was that?"

After rambling on for a while about how ‘a good haircut cut could really help his chances with the ladies’, Tommy finally strays from his side, sliding back behind him.

The peace is so immensely wonderful he almost wants to giggle with glee.

...he doesn’t do that though.

...it’d be insanely out of character and Tommy would absolutely never let him live it down.

But the peace is _too_ wonderful. He notices that the soft, padding footsteps behind him have ceased and Tommy has been quiet for _far too long_ for everything to be normal.

He finds him, standing on at the edge of a tall bluff, a little ways back on the trail.

Techno realizes it's probably a good thing Tommy was banned from the Nether. Obviously that didn't stop him from being here but it was a good idea in theory.

Tommy stands at the edge of the cliff, the tips of his boots dangling off the red rocks, sending pebbles tumbling into the abyss.

The lava reflects in the boy’s glossy eyes. He almost seems to implore with it.

_Oh._

Techno sighs, yielding to the serious tone this trip apparently seemed to be taking.

"Tommy, I know we aren't on _great_ terms right now, but you know you can talk to me if you want to."

"You'd just make fun of me." Tommy mutters, unmoving.

"Well, _I mean_ , that _is_ a likely possibility." He chuckles.

Tommy perceptibly winces away and Techno realizes that was probably the wrong thing to say.

"Sorry." He clears his throat and sits down on the ledge next to Tommy’s boots, legs dangling off the edge. "Look… I’m no good at these emotional ‘ _heart-to-hearts_ ’ or whatever but…

—I know what it’s like to be alone too.”

That garners Tommy’s attention ever so slightly.

“You don't have to agree. And I'm...sorry things have gone the way that they have.” He sees out of the corner of his eye as Tommy pulls his gaze away from the boiling inferno beneath him and looks at him instead. The man’s eyes grow darker and he sighs.

“But just know that even though you still believe in silly things like _'structure'_ and _'government',_ we're in it together now, alright?”

Techno doesn’t push it, or add anything else, or even ask Tommy if he’s ok (Techno already knows the answer).

Rather, he just sits there, surveying the boiling inferno alongside his brother for what might be hours. Techno’s breath hitches when he feels Tommy finally move, very nearly reaching out to wrestle him away from the cliff side but instead the boy lowers himself to sit besides him. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

“Thanks, Techno.” It’s barely a whisper, spoken low, and quiet, and vulnerable.

He pushes down the voices and fury that demand for the blood of whoever broke this boy ( _for now,_ at least), instead treasuring the meek words of thanks.

They sit silently on the high bluff, dangling their legs off the cliffside that hangs dangerously above the lava lake, and they survey the horrendous nether landscape that Techno has learned to find beautiful.

It’s a long time before either of them speak again.

“Ready to head home?”

Tommy nods and pushes himself up with a shudder. He begins to walk away from the edge and back to the trail when Techno calls out to him.

" _Oh_ , and _Tommy,_ " He calls.

The boy in question turns back to face him, inquiry and worry sketched in his features.

_They aren't buddies or pals, but they are brothers._

" _Sometimes, the lava talks to me too_.")

They sneak into L'manburg.

He'd dreamed of this place every night and now he was here again.

And it feels so _wrong_

Tommy doesn't know if he's ever seen the server look so nice.

(Maybe, he really was a liability.)

They stumble through the sewers. He reckons it hasn't even been a year since he built them but _so much_ has happened since then. So much has been lost.

(The tunnel starts looking familiar but he can't quite remember why.

_Then he sees the blackstone_.

He sees the sees the sign, and the button, and the chest that still has his name carefully engraved into the wood,

—he sees these things and promptly hyperventilates.

The walls are collapsing in on him. There is s _creaming, and chaos, and swords, and fire, and laughter—_

Invisible bodies are flooding into the small, cramped room.

He can't _think_ , or _feel_ , or process what's happening. His attempts to raise his sword and defend himself are pathetic and futile.

All he sees is Dream's mask and its eternal smile.

All he hears is the terrified screams of his friends and that _stupid laughter_.

All he feels is the sword slipping through his ribcage like it was made to fit there.

He's never died before but he immediately knows thats what's happening.

" _It was never meant to b_ —"

"Woah there, Tommy. Ease up a bit, will ya?"

_His hands quiver. There's blood on them._

"Tommy, what happened here?"

_Dream looms over him, giving the sword an extra shove—_

"Are you even lucid?"

His hands are shaking but there's no blood.

"Tommy, it's fine, we don't have to build the bunker here."

"Let's...let's find somewhere else."

_He misses the sky down here._ )

He's reluctant to leave L'manburg but Techno promises they'll return soon.

They go back to the cottage.

Techno protests, demands, and begs he doesn't,

but he builds a tower.

( _The sky sings and it almost feels like home._ )


	2. went out to play out in the wild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter a little bit more than the first to be honest. There's a lot more action and less...reflection I guess.
> 
> Staring with this chapter, this piece will take a lot more story driven approach. There will still be large amounts of character study elements but yeah! I'm not sure if the tone shift will be too drastic, so if so I will probably do some editing later on!
> 
> Also, here is the point where this is going to become more canon divergent. Many scenes are heavily inspired by the canon ones though.
> 
> Ghostbur is here! To avoid confusion, usually Ghostbur will be referred to by the narrative as 'Wilbur' but for the most part the characters just call him 'Ghostbur'.

While Techno would probably say otherwise, Tommy thinks things are going _lovely_.

(" _Stop_ eatin' my golden apples. I literally gave you a stack of stake _so you wouldn't_ have to waste them."

"Oh, but why?" Tommy whines. "They make me feel so _powerful_!"

"Tommy, those things are expensive! You can't just go— _Tommy_ , Tommy, stop! "

The crisp crunch of the golden apple as Tommy takes a massive bite might as well be the sound of Techno's heart breaking.

"Do you know how long I spent _grindin'_ to get all those?"

Tommy chews as obnoxious as humanly possible, swallowing with a loud, triumphant gulp. The boy shoots him a mischievous and gold-flaked smirk.

"You're impossible.")

They farm, and mine, and frequently go into the village to trade and commune with the villagers.

He still feels cold sometimes. On those days the walls seem to creep in on him and he feels trapped, and out of control, and unwelcome. On those days he misses Wilbur’s songs, Quakity’s jokes, Dream’s company, and _Tubbo_ —

On those days sometimes the ground begins to sing.

But those days are few and far between.

_He’s free and in control now._

It’s a great start.

(Phil comes to visit late one night.

Tommy is woken from his slumber—because that's what _normal_ people do at night—when he hears the two of them stomping around upstairs.

He kicks the blanket off of him and whines as he is hit with a wave of cool air immediately.

He hears hearty laughter echoing from above as he crosses the basement (disregarding the blank eyes of the creepy village people) and climbs up the ladder.

“You all are absolute psychopaths, the lot of you.” Tommy spews as he hoists himself onto the cozy main floor of the cottage. “Would it kill you to be like, literally everyone else and just have a normal sleep schedu-”

“Tommy? You’re here?” His father questions.

Philza’s face contorts with emotions that Tommy can’t decipher, only partially due to the dim lighting, as the man whips around on Technoblade who is putting his large, snow covered, coat on the wrack.

“Techno, did you—”

“I—uh, _may_ have forgotten to mention that.”

“How could you _possibly_ forget to mention me you _idiot_? Am _I forgettable_ to you?” Tommy launches into a tirade before turning to Phil. “ _Phil_ wouldn’t have forgotten me.” Tommy proclaims, wrapping an arm around Philza’s shoulder.

Techno sputters and Phil’s expression melts from confusion and disbelief into something much softer. The man lets out a warm cackle.

“It’s great to see you, Tommy.”

That evening they relax, cook, and laugh by the fire.

Tommy’s heart feels a little more full.

(Tommy doesn't notice the busted iron shackle around his father's ankle.)

(It's beyond surprising that Techno is the first to fall asleep during their impromptu family-sleepover, but low and behold, he slumps against Phil and drifts off.

Tommy has _definitely_ filed this away as future blackmail.

He and Philza discuss some of the finer details of his exile in hushed voices late into the night, the room only lit by the low glow of the crackling fireplace.

"You said Wilbur stopped visiting you while you were back on the island, yeah?" Phil asks him after a brief lull in their conversation.

"Yeah. I haven't seen him since he went to invite everyone to my beach party." Tommy recalls, face screwing up in painful recollection.

Phil hums in acknowledgement.

"I haven't either." He eventually says. "I never received my invite by the way. Assuming I was invited."

"That's what everyone else said too." Tommy murmurs.

"What do…" He hesitates. "Do you think he's alright?"

"I reckon so, Wilburs always been like this." Philza decides.

" _Ghostbur isn't Wilbur_ , Phil.")

Things are going really good.

He and Techno aren't _buddies_ or _pals_ but they make it work.

_It's good._

But like he does with all the good things he's given, Tommy inevitably goes and ruins this too.

_It's an accident._

He's exhausted from mining, fatigue weighing on his eyelids and straining all his muscles. Tommy swears if he takes one more step he is going to collapse.

He discards the pickaxe and torch, carelessly letting them clatter onto the floor as he goes to grab some food from the chest.

It's too dark to see what he's reaching for so he moves the torch a bit clos—

The torch isn't in his hand.

It's really an accident.

Tommy violently whips around, any trace of his previous sluggish state no where to be found.

He is greeted by flames.

Tommy shrieks, fumbling to grab a spare water bucket or anything to douse the fire.

" _No, no, no, no_ , stop it—"

He finds one in the chest and all but chucks it on the ground. The flames hiss and sizzle as they are extinguished, becoming nothing but ash and smoke.

The floor is ruined, blackened and completely charred.

Techno, always with his impeccable timing, bursts through the front door.

"Tommy, what on earth— _what have you done_?!" He gaps, gesturing to the wooden floorboards, or lack thereof.

Techno can already hear Tommy's hectic rebuttal, slinging swears and insults in a frantic attempt to exempt himself from any blame but no—

It doesn't ever come.

Tommy just...stands there.

(" _Tommy, you are our biggest liability at the moment._ ")

" _Techno_...I-I…"

"I _generously_ let you stay in my home and you just go _burnin'_ the place down! This is unbelievable." Technoblade turns away and massages his temples.

He waits for the outburst. Techno waits for the screaming, and the swearing, and the insults but they still don't come.

"Tommy?" Techno turns back around to face brother, unsure.

"I-I'm... _It_ —" The boy takes a large gulp, his shoulders sagging and hands shaking at his sides.

Techno waits for the outburst and instead watches as Tommy's demeanor crumbles. He finally looks up from his shoes with tears brimming his eyes.

" _I'm sorry_."

("Sorry doesn't cut it, Tommy." Dream says, leaving him alone in the rumble.)

"Uh, it's alright." Techno awkwardly glances to the side. "It was just wood, anyways." He offers.

_"P-please don't go_. I…I-I don't want to be _alone._ " Tommy mumbles blankly.

"I mean, it is my house so—" He snorts.

Tommy slumps onto the ashened, dirty floor and curls up as tightly as his lanky limbs will allow him.

(He can't believe he's gone and ruined everything again.

He can't be alone again.

_He can't_.)

"Please, _wait_ , _I'm so sorry_. I didn't mean it. It was an _accident, I_ —" Tommy rambles are restless and incoherent. Techno's steps are light and uncertain (mainly because he doesn't want to spook Tommy but also because he doesn't want the wood to snap beneath him.)

"Tommy, calm down, I-I'm not upset." He cautiously kneels beside his brother and places a hand on his back.

(His arms tremble horribly as he leans forward onto them, blood dripping down his swollen face as he raggedly pants for air.

Pebbles press into his palms and his knees drive against the damp cave floor as he gasps for air.

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut as he hears Techno kneel down in front of him.

" _It stays in the pit, Tommy_.")

"Are you going to make me go?" Tommy questions after he calms and his mournful babbling grows silent.

"No."

(Tommy is learning these days that he doesn't hate his " _worst_ " enemies quite as much as he thought.)

Tommy drifts to sleep, curled tight among the ash, and Techno collects him up and carries him to bed.

(Technoblade doesn't go to bed that night.

The voices scream for bloodshed and _who is he to deny them_?)

Tommy is sweeping away some of the debris from last night's _'incident'_ when a knock comes to the door. He hardly has time to blink when he gets roughly shoved into a crate.

"What the— _get you filthy hands of me you_ —!"

"Tommy, _shut up_ and _get in the box!_ " Techno warns through clenched teeth.

"What, _why?_ _I'll never conform to this tyra_ —!"

Technoblade raises a finger to his lips, gives him a ' _I am serious, trust me_ ' kinda look, and shoves the lid onto the crate.

Tommy isn't happy about it but he decides to conform. Just this once.

He can hear the creak of the door as it is pulled open and immediately recognizes the guest by the footsteps alone.

"Dream." Techno say flatly.

"It's good to see you too, Technoblade." Dream chuckles.

There's a small crack in the barrel the Tommy can just barely peek out of. At just the right angle he can see almost the entirety of Dream's figure.

"I've actually never been here before." The mask man continues, walking further in and scanning the room. "It's a nice place. Minus the...burned floorboards."

"Thank you, thank you. Freak accident with some potions the other day." Techno replies without hesitation.

"Makes sense." Dream hums.

Dream is actually here.

( _And some sick thing deep inside of him is glad_.)

"Well I'll get straight to the point. Tommy has gone missing. When I last spoke to him, he wasn't quite... _thinking clearly_. _I'm worried about him_. I figured I should let you know and I trust that if you see him you'll let me know."

Was Dream…concerned about him?

"Of course."

"L'manburg thinks he's dead, y'know. _Apparently Tubbo_ had gone to visit him and found the place in ruins. Everything was destroyed except for one tall tower."

Tommy very nearly shoots up from his hiding place in the crate. A thousand different thoughts and feelings bombard him all at once.

( _Tubbo had come to visit him?_

_Tubbo thinks he's dead?_ )

Techno just hums in acknowledgement.

Dream begins to walk around the room, once again examining it's contents. Techno's grip on his swords hilt tightens imperceptibly and Tommy's heart stops as Dream pauses right in front of the crate.

"Oh, this is a nice painting. Where'd you get it?" Dream's voice is uncharacteristically void of emotion and depth. 

Tommy deflates a little but still remains tense and rigid as the two men discuss local artists.

"Do you mind if I get a closer look at the signature?" Dream asks.

"Uh, that might _not_ —"

Dream leans his full weight against the crate and grabs the painting from off the wall.

_This is it_.

"Hmm, _'Sad-ist',_ I feel like I've heard of them before. That's Interesting." Dream inspects the painting and places a hand on the lid of the crate. "I'll have to check them out some time."

Technoblade watches Dream with calm, deadly focus as he goes to hang the frame back on the wall. It slips through his grasp.

Tommy hears the clatter of the painting as it hits the ground and holds his breath.

"Oops. Sorry, my bad— _let me get that_."

He doesn't like it in the crate. It's cramped, and small, and tight, and it's getting tighter.

Dream reaches down to grab the painting,

(Any air in his lungs is squeezed out and Tommy can't manage to drag anymore in. Beads of sweat drip down his face and he feels oh so out of control, like he's trapped and can't move—)

—and his ever-cheerful mask appears right in front of the crack in the crate.

(He knows it has never changed, but Tommy swears it's smile grows wider every time he sees it)

Tommy can do nothing but squeeze his eyes shut and pray that, someday—far in the future—Tubbo will come to join him and they can start over. _Free_.

"Got it. Sorry about that." Dream raises back up and hangs the painting on the wall.

_What?_

"It's no trouble." Techno lies with ease.

"Again, sorry for dropping in so suddenly. Just.. _.thought you should know._ " Dream already stands with one foot out the door.

"Well, thank you for keeping me in the loop."

Dream gives one final look into the room, and even though the neither of them can see what's behind that stupid _bloody_ mask,

_they both know he's smiling._

" _It's no trouble._ "

The door clicks shut and Tommy still can't breathe, not yet.

Techno takes the lid off the crate and he's finally free again—

"He definitely knows." Techno says nonchalantly.

(Tommy wonders why, after everything Dream had done,

— _a part of him wanted to be found_.)

Technoblade has bees. He keeps them in a building next door.

Tommy asks to be excused from that particular task.

(When the sweet taste of honey graces one's lips, it's easy to forget the sting of the bee that bares it.

Tommy doesn't forget though.

He may not listen or learn, 

but he doesn't forget.

Not anymore.

_He remembers everything_.) 

The view from Tommy's new tower is incredible. Granted, there is far, _far_ too much snow everywhere, but otherwise, _incredible_.

  
  


He can see everything for miles, whether it'd be the village, or the forest, or Techno's weirdly overpopulated turtle farm (he keeps meaning to talk to Techno about that last one. Can't have an eyesore like that bringing down his property value).

He spends a lot of time in his tower—in the sky that sweetly sings, in the open air where he's free.

  
  


Technoblade hides his concern well (or, there's the possibility he just _isn't that concerned_ ) but still _insists_ Tommy builds guard rails.

  
  


Tommy would be touched if he didn't see it as an encroachment on his personal liberty.

  
  


("—what happened to _anarchy_?! This is government overreach! This is a violation of my human rights! I started a revolution and will not hesitate to do so agai—" He sputters, face reddening in rage.

  
  


"Tommy, _build the guard rails_."

  
  


"I will do _no such thing_! No means no! You _do not_ have my consent!" 

  
  


"—Tommy that _doesn't_ mean what you think it does.")

  
  


He builds the stupid guard rails.

  
  


( _I_ _t's not like they could stop him anyway—_ no, he shouldn't be thinking like that.)

  
  


Despite how the rails _impede_ on the scenic experience, one day, as he sits on the top of his tower from which he can see for miles, he notices something. Squinting intently, Tommy strains his eyes to observe the anomaly.

  
  


A gangly, coltish figure was slowly moving towards their settlement

  
  


_Was that...Ranboo?_

  
  


_L'manburg thinks he's dead._

  
  


_Huh._

  
  


Without any further thought or consideration to whether his deceased status could be could be considered advantageous for his current position or potentially devastating for those once close to him, Tommy begins the tedious climb down from his vantage point. 

  
  


It's hard to come down these days; the sky tries to tug him back into its arms with every rung he steps down. 

  
  


_Maybe one day he won't be able to._

  
  


Once his feet finally touch the earth, the snow is adorned with new, fresh footprints leading to the cottage.

  
  


_He's going to see a friend_.

  
  


Tommy practically flings the door off the hinges.

  
  


" _Ranboo_! Ma' friend!" Tommy pompously strides into the room with his arms held wide.

  
  


Ranboo's jaw drops as he incredulously looks between him and Techno. Tommy's arms slowly fall back to his sides upon seeing the wariness in Ranboo's expression.

  
  


"... _Tommy?_ But…." 

  
  


Tommy glances over Ranboo's shoulder to where Techno is visibly fuming. The man holds a splash potion of invisibility in his hand and seems to be assessing the situation, calculating the exact moment to use it.

  
  


" _How're you…_?" Ranboo falters, raising a timid a hand to hover before Tommy. "I thought…"

  
  


Tommy vehemently shakes his head as Techno gears to throw the potion. Ranboo's face morphs in confusion as he follows Tommy's gaze.

  
  


"Look, uh... _Ranboo_ ," Techno hastily obscures the potion behind his back, "I can tell Tommy's departure has… _greatly affected_ you. Why don't you go outside the base to collect yourself." A dazed Ranboo is manueved onto the front porch by Techno's light shoving. "Goodbye." The man says to the boy as he promptly slams the door.

  
  


Irritation crawls under Tommy's skin. " _Why_ did you do tha—"

  
  


"What're you _doin'_ , Tommy? _Are you out of your mind_?" Techno snarls through grit teeth.

  
  


"What—" He begins to whine.

  
  


"You just _blew_ your cover, Tommy!" Techno cuts him off with a loud whisper. The man huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose

  
  


"But they think I'm _dead!_ " Tommy's voice raises in hysterics.

  
  


" _E_ _xactly_ ! It was _perfect!"_ Techno stresses.

  
  


" _Have you gone mad?! H_ _ow is that perfect?!"_

  
  


"No one is gonna come _lookin' for you_ if they think you're _dead_ , now are they? _You were free!_ "

  
  


( _Free?)_

  
  


A single, soft knock comes to the door. "Is it ok for me to come back inside now?" A voice says from the other side.

  
  


"No, keep collecting yourse—"

  
  


"Yes you _may_ , Ranboo." Tommy shots Techno a dirty look and goes to open the door.

  
  


"This is ridiculous." The piglin man grumbles as the Ranboo is ushered back inside.

  
  


"So, _Tommy_ , you're…" Ranboo searches for the right words, gesturing to Tommy.

  
  


"There he goes again, talking to the dead."

  
  


"Technoblade, has anyone ever told you that you are just the _worst_." Tommy glares at the man who just shrugs.

  
  


Ranboo chuckles before looking at Tommy very seriously. "It's _really_ good to see you, Tommy." The enderman-boy says as he enfolds Tommy into a hug.

  
  


Tommy swallows the emotion threatening to collect in his throat and feebly reaches a single arm around Ranboo. 

  
  


( _It's too late for Tommy to break now._ )

  
  


Ranboo pulls back and gives Tommy a genuine smile.

  
  


"Alright, why are you here, Ranboo?" Techno inquires from across the room, arms grimly crossed over his chest.

  
  


"Oh! Uh, I was actually sent by Tubbo to let you know that Tommy was dead, which, uh, is ironic, because he's actually here!" The boy chuckles nervously.

  
  


"Ranboo, if my memory serves me correctly, you and a L'manburg posse were here around a week ago. Do you remember why?" Techno's voice and gaze holds no emotion, perhaps making it all the more imposing.

  
  


"Uhh…to execute you? Sorry about the by the way _._ " Ranboo say sheepishly.

  
  


Tommy hadn't known that.

  
  


(He thinks back to the day he spent in the basement, where the sounds of metal, and war, and violence had filled his ears.

He thought he'd heard his friend's voices but he'd also been hearing a lot of other things too.)

  
  


"Now, if my memory serves me _correctly_ , it didn't work, however, my armor and tools, they were stripped from me." Technoblade paces the room, every step resounding, before stopping right in front of Ranboo. The boy straightens.

  
  


"We aren't enemies, Ranboo. _Where is my gear?_ " 

  
  


(Perhaps, in staying with his brother out of desperation over the past few weeks, Tommy has truly forgetten how terrifying this man was. 

  
  


This man before him was not his brother, bu a warlord. 

  
  


This was the man who left his adoptive home and conquered every where his feet lead him. This was the man who restored their rebellion from the ground up. This was the man who stole his best friend's life in front of a crowd, pounded him into dust in the pit, and _betrayed_ his trust.

  
  


_This was the man he once looked at as if he'd hung the moon in the night sky.)_

  
  


"Leave him _alone_ , Techno." Tommy's jaw sets and none of him wavers—not his voice, or expression, or resolve.

  
  


"It's ok!" Ranboo urges, diffusing Tommy with a hand on his arm. "Actually, I have some of your armor in my enderchest if you want it back."

  
  


Technoblade's terrifying, icy disposition, adorned with eminence and prestige, turns into almost complete bewilderment. "You're just gonna...give it to me?"

  
  


"I guess so. Do you not want me too?" Ranboo shrugs pulling out the items from Techno's enderchest.

  
  


"Nope. I am _more_ than pleased with this arrangement." Techno objects.

  
  


"So, everyone really thinks I'm dead?" 

  
  


All eyes turn to Tommy as the last pieces of armor are handed off to Techno.

  
  


"Yeah." Ranboo doesn't meet Tommy's eye.

  
  


"Tommy, that was like, _five_ conversations ago." Techno retorts, inspecting his re-acquired armor.

  
  


"We're actually having a funeral for you after Christmas! Tubbo was pretty clear that Technoblade wasn't invited though. But I guess since you aren't actually dead we can—"

  
  


"You won't be tellin' anyone about this, Ranboo." Techno says.

  
  


"But Techno—" Tommy interjects.

  
  


"You can go back to L'manburg. I'm not gonna harm you since you've been so gracious to return to me what's mine." Techno reassures, nodding to his armor. Then his eyes morph into something much darker. "But what you saw here today, that stays between us. You aren't gonna tell _anyone_. I don't want anyone else showing up here."

  
  


"Yeah...yeah, ok" Ranboo concedes. 

  
  


"This was a good visit. If you have anymore of my things, feel free to stop by. If you don't, please refrain yourself from doing so." Techno dismisses himself, sliding down the ladder into the basement.

  
  


"Well, I think I was politely asked to leave." Ranboo nervously laughs and makes his way to the door.

  
  


"Wait! Ranboo—" Tommy reaches out for the boy, grabbing his wrist. Ranboo quizzically turns back around.

  
  


"How's um...is—" Tommy stammers, "how's my man, Tubbo?"

  
  


Ranboo's eyes, though luminous and otherworldly, grow sad. "He's...uh," he reaches to rub behind his neck.

_"Tommy_ …Tubbo's pretty messed up. He…I could tell everything was really weighing on him _before_ he went to visit you at Logstedshire, but, _man,_ afterwards…"

  
  


Tommy feels his heart sink like a stone.

  
  


"No one's hardly seen him. He's only been back to L'manburg, like, _once_ and he barely talked to anyone other than to break the news. We don't know where he's been. We're...really worried about him." 

  
  


("What about Schlatt?"

"Sorry?" Tubbo looks up, the worry and stress etched into his expression fades into confusion. 

"I figured since I told you about Wil, I could ask about Schlatt. Is he good to you?" Tommy explains, and firmly asks again. 

The pinecone in Tubbo's hand is a mangled mess even before he tightens his grip on it.

"...Tommy, _I-I_..." Tubbo sucks in a shaky breath and observes how their shadows have grown longer and the air has become cooler, "...ought to get going soon."

Tommy barely hears it, it's as if Tubbo is ashamed to defer to such a weak, cheap means of escape. Tubbo keeps his head low and goes to push himself off the ground.

"Tubbo, _wait—"_ Tommy moves to his knees and reaches for him, snagging Tubbo's wrist as lightly as he can manage.

Tubbo still winces. 

The boy looks back at Tommy with a raw look of pure hopelessness and heartache and Tommy can't help but pull him back down ever so slightly. That is enough for Tubbo to come crashing into him.

_"It won't be forever."_ Tubbo murmurs into his shoulder. Tommy tightens his own grip.)

  
  


"He really misses you, Tommy."

  
  


"Oh."

"Well I should get going." Ranboo regards Tommy kindly from under the door frame. "It's... I'm really glad you're alive." 

"Yeah. Bye, Ranboo." Tommy manages. The boy gives him a wave before exiting and closing the door shut behind him.

  
Tommy doesn't waste any time in tracking down Techno. He finds him in the basement, hunched over the whetstone.  
  


"Why can't anyone know I'm alive?" Tommy demands. Techno is slow to acknowledge him but subtly cranes his head in Tommy's direction. A scraping sound encompasses the entire room as the man returns to sharping his pickaxe.

  
  


"You ever been to your own funeral, Tommy?"  
  
  


* * *

Christmas is fast approaching—and even though Techno is an absolute grinch and refuses to let him decorate the place, he decides, out of the _goodwill in his heart_ (definitely not to make up for nearly burning down their house), to get the man a present.

He spends a long time trying to think of a good gift, racking his brain for what the man enjoys and is passionate about while chopping down a tree to gather some spruce wood to replace the floorboards.

_Unsurprisingly_ , this gets him nowhere.

He drives his axe a little bit harder into the tree, sending a bird soaring out of its limbs with indignant squawks.

"That's right you coward! _You better run_! How does it feel to have _pathetic, little_ _twigs_ for legs?" He screams back.

Tommy chucks his axe at the bird for effect. He misses by a rather large margin but still grins as the bird scatters.

"Good one, Tommy." He says to himself, chuckling as he goes to collect his axe.

He reaches the spot where he'd seen the axe land _but it isn't there._

"W-who's there?" Tommy stutters. He clears his throat, putting on a braver, more masculine face. He assumes one of the village children must've been watching him, waiting for the opportunity to steal his things. He will not be intimidated by a child ( _except maybe Dream's sister_. He doubts there is _anyone_ who doesn't fear the girl—and if there was, they'd be a fool not too.).

"This _isn't_ funny, I want my axe back and I want it _now_!" He shouts. "I'll give you three seconds to give me back my axe peacefully. You don't want to see me when I'm angry!"

The lack of response mocks him.

"Okay, I'm going to start counting now! Yeah, _you heard me_!" He warns.

"One!"

Nothing.

"Two!"

A pine tree rustles a bit in the wind. It definitely doesn't startle him at all. Nope. After regaining his composure, Tommy continues.

"Two and a half!"

This was supposed to work wasn't it? It always had worked when Philza had done it to him as a kid.

_Then he sees it._

Peeking out from behind an evergreen about 10 feet in front of him is a white, arctic fox. He's heard those things are pretty rare.

He's _also_ heard Techno mentioning he intended to get one at some point.

"Hey there... _pal_." He moves very slowly towards the creature, digging around in his pocket for the berries he'd stashed earlier.

"I didn't mean to startle you. You see some _terribly awful_ person has stolen my axe and—"

The fox dashes away from him, but not before grabbing Tommy's axe, which it'd apparently had behind the tree with it, in it's filthy little mouth.

" _You_!" Tommy furiously pursues the fox, hot on its trail as it speeds through the cold forest, leaving behind its small footprints.

They tear through the forest, Tommy breathing heavily and screaming profanities. But then, the fox slows at the mouth of a cave, sitting down and dropping the axe from its mouth.

"Oh, you're going to regret the day you crossed me!" Tommy says, slowing to an intimidating strut as he catches his breath. "What're you just doing just _sat there_! You have _some nerve_ —"

"Hi, Tommy! What are you doing here? Have you been unexiled?"

_What—_

_How?_

_Why??_

Tommy hates this day.

"Ghostbur, I'd _rather not talk to you_."

"Oh."

Wilbur stands— _hovers_ —at the caves entrance with a lantern. The sun has barely begun to set, shining it's last rays through the pine trees. Wilbur appears to have furnished the inside of the cave on closer inspection.

"Oh, you've brought a _friend_!" Wilbur exclaims, squatting down to get a closer look at the animal. Tommy rolls his eyes.

The fox doesn't run from him much to Tommy chagrin.

"He is _not_ my friend. _Friends_ don't steal eachothers axes." He spits, glaring at the fox with his whole being.

"Hello, Tommy's friend! I'm Ghostbur and _you_ are adorable!" He says, holding out a hand to the fox for it to sniff. "What's his name?"

" _He doesn't have a_ —" Tommy runs his hands through his hair. "What are you doing here, Ghostbur?"

"What do you mean?" Ghostbur's expression falls. ds.

"You _know_ what I mean!" Tommy growls and clenches his blond hair in his fists. Tommy whips around and suddenly, when facing the confused and torn ghost of his brother, can't find any anger left. He pretends not to notice the darkening 'blue' in his his hand.

"Where _were you_ , man? _Where did you go_?" His voice cracks as he questions the dead man, sincere and honest.

"I'm sorry."

Tommy's heard that one a lot.

_(Yet, he'll fall for it every time._ _)_

"I didn't mean to leave for long. Dream told me the party had been cancelled and to stop handing out invitations. I-I…, he sent me out here and I got lost and I…

" _I didn't mean to hurt you, Tommy._ "

("Tommy, c-can I ask you a question?"

"Don't be _stupid_ , Tubbo, of course you can."

The sun has begun its descent in the sky, some of its stray rays of light flittering through the limbs of the pine and casting their shadows to dance upon the grass.

The air is getting cooler everyday, so they sit close.

Tommy doesn't know when they started talking in hushed tones but he does know _why._

"And you'll tell me the truth, yeah?" Tubbo earnestly persists from where is sitting right across from him.

Tommy doesn't like where this conversation is heading.

Tommy spotted Tubbo an hour or so ago, strolling into the thicket at a later time than they'd decided on. His stance was conflicted as he scanned the area, eyes narrowing until Tommy flagged him down, waving to him from underneath the tree. Tubbo's face had immediately brightened. 

The meeting was intended as a briefing to the ongoings in Manberg, but as Tubbo had lowered himself to sit across from Tommy, close enough that their knees lightly knocked, and told him in great detail about the ingredients Schlatt had chosen for his protein-packed breakfast this morning, it became rather apparent there wasn't much to report on.

The silence was easily filled with concealed laughter, mindless chatter, and kind smiles (which Tommy had been learning were sometimes much louder than the other things).

"I will _consider_ it." Tommy affirmingly states, absent-mindedly twisting a collection of brown, discarded pine needles between his fingertips. The brunette boy across from him briefly snorts, lowering his head and cracking an amused smile. If a familiar fondness blooms in Tommy's chest, spreading from the depths of his core all the way to the tips of his frozen toes, no one has to know.

When Tubbo lifts his head to regard Tommy once more, the reservation is obvious. It's in his taut expression, manifesting as worry in his eyes, and hanging off every syllable he speaks. 

"Wilbur— _he_ …he doesn't—"

Tommy doesn't like where this conversation is going at all. _Not one bit._

Tubbo staggers through his words, muttering a quick apology and anxiously shifting his attention to the pinecone he's been fiddling with. 

"Wilbur doesn't...hurt you or anything, _right?_ " Tubbo musters the courage to look directly at Tommy, imploring, begging with him to disprove the dark suspicion.

This time, it's Tommy who looks away.

"I. _.. I've seen the bruises, Tommy_." Tubbo admits softly.

He could lie, in fact, there's already one waiting on the tip of his tongue. [ _"Of course not, Big T!"_ It says, " _We're mates, you've got nothing to worry about!"_ ]

_But not today_ , he decides. _Not with Tubbo_.

" _It's not on purpose_." He mutters.)

Ghostbur stands at the mouth of the cave, his voice scratches, and for a second, he sounds _exactly_ like he used too.

_Same tone, same excuses._

But Tommy can't _afford_ to not instantly forgive and forget. He can't _afford_ to keep the people in his life accountable. He can't _hold grudges, or stay angry at them even if they hurt him repeatedly_ —

Because _if he does_ , _there won't be anyone left_.

And he'll be alone again.

Ghostbur stands at the mouth of the cave with his lantern, his voice scratches, he has unshed tears in his eyes, and he looks so sad.

_So_ , he thinks of how Ghostbur left him, and didn't invite anyone to his beach party, and how he doesn't remember anything from before, and gets to pretend like he's all innocent,

and bids the thoughts adeu.

"S'alright, I suppose." Tommy kicks at the ground, sending a pebble skipping across the stone.

" _Precious_."

" _What?_ " 

" _Precious!_ We should name the fox _Precious_!" Wilbur exclaims in inspiration. Before Tommy can even begin to process the complete one-eighty mood shift, Wilbur has scooped the fox into his arms and snuggles it to his translucent chest.

The fox squirms and twists to no avail, Wilbur remains completely unfazed, talking to it sweetly.

"I love you so much, Precious."

Tommy looks on the scene completely dumbfounded at Wilbur's lack of attention span.

"This is _disgusting._ " He finally manages to say as the Wilbur blows kisses at ' _Precious_ ' the fox, who has somewhat settled in the ghost man's arms.

Suddenly, Wilbur takes the most dramatic, loud gasp he's ever heard and panic flares through Tommy.

" _Tommy_ —we can give Precious to Techno for Christmas!" Ghostbur squeals.

"Number one, we are _not_ naming the fox. Even if we did, we would _not_ name it ' _Precious_ ' because that is a _terrible_ name. Number two, I totally thought of that first! You can't just _steal my_ idea!" He shouts in exasperation. "Number three, _absolutely not_ , that fox is a thief and a moron and _I hate him_."

" _Tommy_!" Wilbur scolds, looking startled and covering Precious's ears. "He doesn't mean it, Precious. I'm sure he _loves_ you too." He whispers reassuringly to the fox.

"I do _not_! He stole my axe and didn't even apologize!" The fox bares its teeth at him and Tommy promptly sticks out his tongue. 

They keep the stupid fox and Tommy leads Ghostbur through the woods and back to the cottage as the sun disappears from the sky, giving way to hundreds of thousands of bright, angelic stars. The smoke from the chimney reaches up to them and acts as a flare in the night, a promise of the warmth and safety that lie just ahead. 

Tommy looks up the stars and turns an ear to their song. They remind him of his discs' beautiful music and all of the memories they contain. Tommy can barely restrain himself from trying to reach up and snatch them in his hands.

He just wants to hold them, really.

Ghostbur is happily skipping a few steps in front of him with the fox now contently bundled in his arms.

Things aren't perfect.

There's no L'manburg, and Tommy doesn't have his discs, and Tubbo isn't here to contently walk besides him,

but this moment feels familiar.

Tommy doesn't know it yet, but it feels like home.

(It is a warm summer evening when Wilbur pulls him aside and guides him through the forest. The crickets chirp loudly and the fireflies light the woods in every direction Tommy turns his head.

Wilbur has an arm around Tommy's shoulder and speaks with an _innovation_ and _brilliance_ that makes Tommy's stomach jitter in elation 

He speaks of _control, freedom,_ and _home_.

They come to a clearing. The path dips into the valley and before he can continue Wilbur holds him back. Tommy follows where his brother's outstretched hand points; there's a van nestled into the heart of the land, sat comfortably by a beautiful lake. 

Tommy can't stop the laugh that tears through his throat. Wilbur smiles brighter than he has in years.

It feels familiar. It feels like home.

Tommy's heart calls and he knows nothing but to follow.

_The sky sung louder in L'manburg._

_It sung there so proudly before it stopped singing there at all.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayooo! So that sad-ist cameo thing doesn't play into the plot at all I just thought it'd be cool to shout an actual artist out there haha! I might change it at some point to a lesser known artist at some point so if you have any recommendations let me know!
> 
> I'll be back through here very soon to edit any errors (because I have a condition where I can only notice them AFTER I've posted something.) so if you're early I AM SO SORRY.
> 
> If you're getting tonal whiplash, I sincerely apologize. I considered putting the bit with the fox in an entirely different, stand alone story, but then I didn't have a good way to reintroduce Wilbur so for now, it is here.
> 
> The funeral will be next chapter (and potentially the last), it might be a bit before I get around to it because I no longer have anything prewritten. Anyways, thanks for your time! Merry Christmas!

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, you actually read this whole mess?
> 
> Are you ok?
> 
> (Haha, joking aside, thank you for taking the time to read this! Time is a really valuable thing and it means the world that you'd spend your's reading something that I've put my own into.) 
> 
> There will be, at the very least, one more chapter that should be up within the next week.


End file.
